


Metamorphosis

by ceedeeandco (Scedasticity)



Series: Inherit the Earth [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scedasticity/pseuds/ceedeeandco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam copes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eve haunting his dreams was better than Lucifer haunting his dreams, though Sam wasn't really sure why. They were both powerful, terrifying beings with their own plans for Earth and for Sam, and didn't seem to entertain the slightest doubt about Sam going along with those plans. Eve's plan for Earth was... better than Lucifer's, anyway. And Sam's role wasn't nearly as critical. Lucifer had _needed_ Sam to say yes. Eve had a role in mind for him, but it could wait, she had other things to see to -- and he wasn't sure she needed his cooperation at all, that she couldn't just reach in and puppeteer if she really felt like it.

That should have been even more terrifying, but... after his experiences with Lucifer, he was shamefully grateful that if he was going to be made to do something, he wasn't going to be made to be responsible for it.

Which wasn't to say she didn't have her own mind games and subtle campaigns of persuasion. Sam had to keep reminding himself that monsters treating humans like endangered game animals -- bringing them back from the brink of extinction so they could start hunting them again -- was not a _good_ thing. But at least when he inevitably caved under the manipulation and forgot he should have been on the humans' side, it wouldn't make a huge difference.

"But why _do_ you think you're supposed to be on the humans' side?" Eve asked, sounding genuinely curious. "Over angels and demons, yes, definitely, some things do not belong here. But are humans really so much better than everything else?"

The dream was the mineral spring where she'd transformed him, again. (The other good thing about Eve's dream-visits was she _usually_ stayed away from his memories and had yet to out-and-out impersonate anyone.) Eve sat with her feet dangling in the steaming, bubbling water.

He'd been remade in that water, and even in his mostly-human shape it didn't feel more than pleasantly warm. He still sat cross-legged on a boardwalk instead of accepting her unspoken invitation. In the dream, he was human -- no wings, no claws on his feet -- and he didn't want to spoil the illusion. "You say that like you _do_ belong here."

"But we do belong here. Well, I can admit _I_ am not a very natural creature, but my children are flesh and blood, built of the same stuff as other living things. If they offended the Earth, she would never permit me to return and make more of them. Have you asked for her opinion?"

Because more cosmically powerful things to deal with was just what Sam needed. "If you're trying to argue that monsters are natural creatures, I think that fails on conservation of mass alone."

"And humans are not natural because they have souls that last forever," Eve replied immediately. "As do my children. You are not _only_ natural, but you are bound enough to your natural part for Gaea to accept you as her own."

"Even if I take your word for it that freaks are completely welcome on Earth, that doesn't mean I want to side with monsters."

"How often do humans call other humans monsters?"

Sam woke up. That was probably the biggest advantage to dreaming about Eve over Lucifer; she almost always let him wake up when he wanted out of a dream-conversation. She did have the option of showing up to talk at him in person.

When he tried to get up, he overbalanced, flailed wildly, and crashed over on his flank, knocking over a chair with one wing. Right. He'd decided to sleep in all-out dragon shape. It hurt less to be stared at, that way.

Ever since Eve had relocated him to the lodge, showed him off to an audience of pagan gods like a new model of car, and taken off to attend to other business, it felt like there had been a constant stream of gawkers, mostly monsters with a handful of gods. Sam wasn't sure how much he didn't want to be stared at as a freakish winged human-thing and how much he was afraid of being recognized. And if he was recognized, would at be as a Hunter-turned-monster or Lucifer's vessel? Less painful to stay four-legged (he couldn't really describe it as anything but _dragon_ , even though Eve had some monsters who said they were dragons who got very touchy about anything else being called a dragon), even if he was still learning how to move.

And dragons didn't need clothing, which made one less thing to worry about. He'd scavenged the gift shop, but that had provided very little in the area of _pants_. There were plenty of shirts, but then he had to deal with the damn wings he had even in mostly-human form, which meant sawing holes in the back and maneuvering the wings through them somehow, so he could then walk around in a mutilated shirt and a kilt made of hoodies, tripping over claws he wasn't used to and knocking things over with wings he couldn't control.

(There might have been some clothes left behind in some of the guest lodging… but he couldn't. He just couldn't face digging through the luggage of someone his weakness had killed.)

(Eve had assured him she was being mindful of his "sensitivities": a ghoul cleaning crew had gone over the lodge quite thoroughly.)

Much less painful to stay four-legged.

Dragon-Sam disentangled himself from his nest of wildlife-themed throw blankets and slunk towards the door of the fireplace room, past his piles of salvaged books and electronic devices. It sounded like there was some activity up front. Maybe one of the trademark-dragons had come to sneer at him some more.

There was a trademark-dragon, but it was standing in the doorway, letting in some very cold drafts, and talking to people outside.

"Thank you for coming," it said -- at this distance Sam probably could have heard him even as a human. "The Mother wishes you to help her newest creature find his wings."

She was sending monsters to -- what -- _tutor him_?

"You have been a bimorph your entire life and have much experience, while you have experience in adapting to being a bimorph. While the shift is not perfectly analogous, you may both provide useful counsel."

Tutor him in changing shape? He could figure that out himself, he just didn't want to--

"Eupraxia, you will begin teaching him to fly."

Yeah, he could probably use some help there. If he was going to fly at all.

"And _you_ will facilitate general adjustment and help him accept himself."

Tutor him in being a monster?

"The structure has a generator and functioning plumbing. Please do not hesitate to request additional supplies. We will be reachable at the ranger station."

Whoever they were, they were coming in. Sam retreated to his lair as quietly as possible. He didn't want to see anyone.

He'd just thought of it as a lair. He _really_ didn't want to see anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

A sort of bird-woman appeared in the doorway long enough to announce that her name was Eupraxia, she was a Harpy, and she would be managing his education when he felt like not being a helpless nestling. A couple of half-grown dogs -- skinwalkers -- crept a good bit closer, until he opened his eyes and they ran away, barking at each other. The young skinwalkers seemed to be attached to an older skinwalker who turned into a sheepdog and still occasionally referred to himself as human -- he was probably the one who'd gotten used to shapeshifting. A fourth skinwalker turned into a coyote and seemed to find the other three faintly embarrassing; by process of elimination, the lifelong shapeshifter.

Sam didn't get a good look at the fourth adult until the next day, when she followed coyote-skinwalker into the room.

"We _are_ hereditary," she was saying. "I don't have any experience helping anyone adjust, _I_ probably don't qualify as well-adjusted, she just told me to come be useful, and she's the Mother, so here I am. I'm just glad Jacob's not the only kid here."

The coyote-woman snorted. "I think I may be spending as much time training those two as I do the… new one. Even if it ever decides to communicate."

"Someone needs to train them that a Harpy is not for barking at." An awkward pause. "So… uh… hello? Eupraxia and Peter and Winona have all been in here while I was getting my kid-- Uh, anyway, I'm called Amy? I'm a tailless kitsune, I don't know if you've heard of us, we're rare in North America--"

Sam raised his head so fast he knocked over a chair. She broke off abruptly.

She didn't look the same -- of course she didn't, it had been, what, sixteen years? But she looked -- familiar, and -- that was the same necklace.

She also looked kind of alarmed by his sudden movement. Right. He was supposed to be able to talk in this form, though he hadn't actually tried it-- "Amy?"

"Uh -- hello?"

"Hang, um, hang on--" He'd shifted before, he could _do_ this, it was like squeezing through a very small door--

His vision distorted, and he heard the disturbing _cracks_ and _pops_ and wet, sticky noises that came with a transformation. It didn't hurt as much as you'd think, listening to it, but it wasn't pleasant. He ended up sprawled face-down in his blanket nest, stupid useless bat-wings flopped out to the sides. (He didn't know if they had enough surface area for gliding, and he was damn sure they weren't strong enough to fly -- the muscles just weren't there. Eve had as much as admitted she'd included them so he could never forget he wasn't human.)

The one good thing about the wings was that they could, for a little while, furl tightly enough for him to get a sweatshirt over them -- they'd cramp if he kept it up too long. He wrapped the nearest wildlife throw blanket around his waist and swayed to his feet.

"Amy. You, uh, I don't know if you remember me -- it was a long time ago, in Nebraska--"

Her face cleared. "Sam? Wow, you got -- uh -- wow. This is a surprise. I guess that explains why I'm here, anyway."

"You _know_ him?" the coyote-skinwalker asked.

"His father was hunting my mother," Amy replied. "I saved Sam's life, he let me go. I don't know how she even knows about it -- I never talk about it--"

There was a sudden explosion of barking from elsewhere in the lodge. Coyote-skinwalker winced and snarled something in a language Sam didn't recognize before sighing. "I'd better make sure they're not barking at Eupraxia." She spun and trotted out, still human-shaped, but Sam could imagine ears perked and tail held high.

Amy looked after her for a moment. "If Peter keeps leaving her to supervise his kids, there is going to be trouble. So. Uh. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the Mother picked a Hunter -- you were still a Hunter?"

"I'm not sure it's possible to stop," Sam said ruefully. "But it's a little more complicated than that, actually..." He couldn't lie about this. "I'm... I was Lucifer's vessel."

She stared at him for a moment. Then she smacked a hand to her face. " _How_ did I never realize you're Sam _Winchester_? It's so obvious -- how many boys my age named Sam raised hunting can there possibly have been? You even mentioned a brother. That's -- I feel very foolish."

There were worse reactions. "You know who, uh, you've heard of me? Of Sam Winchester?"

"Well, I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised you have kind of a rep in monster gossip circles, not that I was very tuned into those before, but mainly there are these books--"

"Oh god no," Sam groaned. "Not Chuck's books."

"I'm not sure who the author was? They were abridged and annotated by a dragon, though, to explain the background of the angels starting the apocalypse."

" _I_ started the apocalypse. I didn't mean to, but I did."

"According to the book they weren't going to let you do anything else."

"It's still on me. He didn't let loose the Croatoan virus until I said yes--"

Amy's eyes widened, but she held up a hand. "Look, none of that changes the fact I was assigned to help you adjust, all right? If you make me mad at you it won't actually make this any more fun for anyone."

"...Right. Sorry." She wasn't here voluntarily any more than he was. The least he could do was not make it harder on her. "Assigned by, uh, by your alpha, or by...?"

"The alpha kitsune is in Asia, I think. Somewhere with more kitsune. I had a dream. About _her_. Only the second time, the first was when she told us to meet up with a werewolf encampment, when we were on our own..." Amy trailed off. "I hope she never asks me to do anything wrong, because I'm really not sure I could say no."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester Gospels According To Eve blames the apocalypse squarely on the angels, including Lucifer. A few upper-level demons like Azazel and Lilith might qualify as players, too, but everyone else is a game piece. Eve doesn't like angels very much and genuinely blames them for most of it, but it's also strategic. Demons are easy, nobody likes demons, demons don't like demons. Angels have a lot of historical good PR, so it's going to take some work to make everyone see them as the enemy. If that means blaming them completely for things which were only partially their doing, Eve has no problem with that.


	3. Chapter 3

Amy, it turned out, had a son, Jacob. Jacob had a laptop, and apparently aspired to spend every waking moment fixed to it, playing computer games or praying to the Internet Gods. He was happy to show Sam how to get set up with the computer from the office and a list of starter prayers to Nairyosangha. The web was a shadow of what it had been, but it was rebounding faster than Sam would have expected. ("There aren't any MMPORGS running yet," Jacob had explained earnestly. "They're going to try to get social media working first for some reason, and then they say maybe there'll be something text-based, but good graphics will take longer, without a local network.")

Sam was more than a little surprised to come across a vampire's guide to making cow blood taste like human blood (or at least not like crap), an E-Z Devil's Trap tutorial, and a quiz for shapeshifters to "Identify the Shape Of Your Dreams!" The Virtual Temple wasn't a surprise at all, knowing about the "internet gods", but it was still weird.

The coyote-skinwalker, Winona, was deeply religious and devoted to the Mother on a rational level, not just an instinctive one. She wasn't as friendly as Amy and Jacob, but she was... kind. Even more than Amy, she seemed committed to the "annotated book" version of Sam as hapless pawn. She had made a comment to the harpy about it serving him right for being a Hunter, but she'd probably thought he couldn't hear. She ran him through transformation exercises, with the goal of eventually being able to go from standing to standing, without falling on the floor.

Eupraxia, the harpy, detested everyone indiscriminately, and never let on she knew anything about Sam beyond his being a new were-dragon-thing and not very good at it.

Peter, though, the sheepdog-skinwalker -- Peter had lost almost everything to the apocalypse, and _he_ was holding a grudge.

It was actually kind of a relief to have someone blaming him.

Peter being especially protective of his daughters, however, was a combination of insulting and ridiculous. Insulting, because accidentally releasing the Devil didn't mean he couldn't be trusted around a _thirteen-year-old girl_ , or her sister, who was _eleven_. Ridiculous, because Beth and Sophie were better at being skinwalkers than their father and were making a pretty good stab at taking over the lodge. They weren't _bad_ kids, but they were loud and energetic and stuck inside by deep snow and still trying to negotiate a new sibling balance of power when the younger sister turned into a pit bull mix and the older one into a beagle. Aggressive skinwalkers made kitsune nervous, Winona did not sign up to be substitute mom, and Eupraxia usually withdrew to sneer at everyone from a distance.

"If you know they snuck into the dining hall while I was asleep, why are you angry at me?"

"You weren't wearing any _pants_!"

Sam blushed bright red. "You think I like the sweatshirt and kilt wardrobe? The gift shop didn't have any pants!"

This led to Peter going to the dragons and demanding they procure more clothing so everyone could be properly dressed. A week after that, two seven-tailed kitsune teleported in with six huge cardboard boxes full of clothes, most of which were not even remotely Sam's size.

"Kunikiyo says they just went through a Land's End warehouse and grabbed some of everything," Amy said, craning her neck to look into a box. "If there are any women's slippers in there, can I have them?"

Having some choice in clothing made all the awkward conversations with Peter worth it. The wings were still a problem, though, so he mostly stuck with his mutilated sweatshirts.

(Amy took all the clothes she thought might appeal to Beth or Sophie and locked them in a housekeeping closet on the third floor, to dole out as rewards for good behavior. She admitted privately to Sam that she was a little afraid they'd be able to scare her into giving up the key if she had it on her, so she'd hidden it in the biohazard box in the freezer full of Croatoan pituitary glands.)

When temperatures finally got above forty, Eupraxia announced he was going to start learning to fly, and if he argued she was going to drop his human form off the roof.

* * *

Unlike the human-form wings, the dragon-form wings could do some serious flapping without getting tired, and generate a pretty impressive wind, but he'd never come anywhere close to lifting off the ground. He thought the dragon-body might just be too heavy.

"Of course it's too heavy," Eupraxia scoffed. "What do you think you are, a proper bird? There's a trick to it. Now transform and let's get on with it."

It had occurred to Sam more than once that various flying monsters really should not be able to fly. He'd never made a fuss about it, because they obviously could fly, he'd be mocked for suggesting otherwise, and he didn't think anyone was really interested in having that discussion with him. It was probably all done by magic anyway.

As it turned out, some of the magic was a little more... scientific than he'd expected. "So... it's a swim bladder. Only for flying. And it's lighter than air because it's magic."

"It's called an ascension chamber," Eupraxia said firmly. "We've had them for thousands of years, we know what they're called."

It was definitely a flying swim bladder. Flight bladder. "Ascension chamber" was more dignified, but it was also confusing. "How am I supposed to use it?"

"Usually you add height by exhaling in a certain way, almost like you're swallowing, but not quite, and tensing... I think you have it. Keep going."

It felt almost like something was pulling up on his backbone -- no, _pushing_ up. Soon, it was definitely taking some of his weight, then more, until he felt like the stupid wings might actually be functional. He'd just started to rise into the air when Eupraxia stopped him.

"All right, that's enough."

Sam stopped, but he was still rising. "Uh..."

"Relax it. _Slowly_ , or you'll probably go through the floor."

He managed a... mostly controlled descent. He didn't break the floor, at least.

"Was that uncomfortable?"

"Uh, some, I guess. Not really?" He'd had worse training.

"Hmm." Eupraxia did not look delighted. "You have pretty high capacity, then. You need it, with that bulk -- but she must mean for you to be able to carry something besides yourself."

"Oh."

"As a rule, do not tense the ascension chamber past neutral weight. If you don't pay attention you can get too high, pass out from altitude, and be sent Mother-knows-where by weather patterns before you're injured badly enough to relax the chamber and get you down."

"I see."

"Avoid doing that."

If he _did_ do that, Eve would probably track him down and haul him home in days at most. Which also ruled it out as a means of attempting suicide. "I will."

"Most people prefer to keep it at least a little below, more if they might have to land in a hurry. Wings are built for lift, not descent without gravity helping."

"That makes sense, I guess..."

"Now come on. We're going to jump off the roof."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using the same mythos for kitsune as in [The No-Tailed Fox](http://archiveofourown.org/works/619297), and Amy's backstory is the same up to the start of the apocalypse.


	4. Chapter 4

Flying was all right.

Okay, so flying was good. He wasn't very good at it yet, but there was just... something about not being stuck on the ground. It beat hiding in corners by a lot.

Bashing broadside into a cliff face and falling to the rock below hadn't been so good. Apparently, his broken bones not only healed quickly, they set themselves by snapping violently back into place beforehand! It had been traumatic. Flying too low over a geyser when it erupted had been less painful -- hot water didn't really bother him -- but more embarrassing, as he'd ended up flipped upside down, dependent on the flight bladder to keep from falling out of the sky, and flailing frantically trying to right himself, all in full view of the lodge. Eupraxia had been merciless.

Harpies were diurnal, which was as good a reason as any to practice night flying. (If Eupraxia was the best possible flying teacher, he shuddered to think of the others.) He tried sailing along just above top of the canopy in some of the more densely wooded areas, but had to give it up after the third near miss.

He was circling back around towards the lodge when he smelled demons.

That was an unpleasant surprise in more ways than one.

There shouldn't have been any demons this far inside the park. The area was supposed to be _safe_... more or less. The kids were warned about bears and wildcats and wolves and don't bother the dragons _or_ the wendigoes, they have no patience, and what pagan gods think is funny is very seldom funny to anyone else involved, but there wasn't supposed to be anything demonic. He was going to find whatever monster was in charge of security and... use whatever leverage he had from being Eve's current pet project, demons in the park was _not okay_.

Also, he _smelled_ the demons. Like he'd smelled demon blood, before. Like something in his brain was getting a message of _good eats here_. He wanted to cry.

The security concern, at least, was alleviated when he saw a pickup truck with a Devil's Trap in the back driving away -- not just _loose_ demons, at least. But why would someone transport demons all the way to the paint-pot springs? Who would--

Oh. Who else. Eve was standing in the water, and she smiled as he landed. "I wondered if you might join us. I assume you smelled the demons? Don't worry, everything's under control."

"Join you and them?" The demons -- there were two of them -- were hanging upside down by their ankles from some sort of scaffold out over the hot springs. Each had duct tape over its mouth and a binding link burned in the middle of its forehead.

He hated that he could tell they weren't very powerful.

Eve gave the demons a disdainful look and pointed at the water. "Join me and your kinsman-to-be. He's early in the transition, but it's coming along well."

Sam ventured closer, giving the demons a wide berth. He didn't want to change forms with no clothes available, but the dragon-form had better eyesight anyway. There was a man in the water, submerged except for his face, eyes closed. Sam could just see the shape of what might be wings, deeper in the cloudy water. "Who is he?"

"His name is Paul Keiffer, and he worked on wildlife management in Florida until an angel asked him to help save the world. He was heartbroken to learn his service accomplished nothing but keeping him from his loved ones at their final hour, and furious to learn the angels never meant to _stop_ the end of the world, only direct it."

"Oh."

"Paul's particular angel was very thoughtful, though. When the angels left Earth, he took the extra few seconds to bring Paul to a guarded refugee camp before departing. Paul was almost _shot_ , but fared much better than angel vessels dropped wherever they were -- sometimes in combat. Or midair. My experts estimate that half the former angelic vessels abandoned when the angels left died within seconds. I was not expecting that, and it has reduced the suitable candidates for transfomation."

Sam wouldn't have guessed it, either, but he couldn't bring himself to be shocked. "It has to be angel vessels?"

"Not quite. But it is related to the reason angels need vessels. Most demons are distorted human souls. Demonic power may be poisonous to humans, but it is not strange to them. _Angelic_ power is alien to earthly flesh. In most cases, trying to anchor such power in a living being will only lead to destruction."

"Except for angelic vessels."

"Angelic vessels _can_ serve as repositories of angelic power. But they do not have it on their own, if they have never had contact with an angel, and the power is too alien for me to safely anchor it without a beacon."

"So, _used_ angel vessels."

"All former angelic vessels can serve. There are other possibilities."

There was no way on Earth a de-powered angel did not have an anchor for angelic power. A potential vessel who'd been resurrected by angels almost certainly qualified, too. Sam decided not to bring it up if she didn't. "Do I want to know what the demons are for?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

They were meant to be weapons against demons, not just angels. If it required related power... Sam eyed the man in the water. "Has he ever been possessed by a demon?"

"No. But as I said, demonic power is not so alien. A preexisting hook makes things a little smoother, but it's not necessary."

"...You're going to bathe that poor guy in demon blood." One of the demons started thrashing.

"He's not conscious," Eve said calmly. "And before you ask, the hosts are dead."

Sam looked away when she cut their throats, but he could smell the blood. Weirdly, it didn't smell any more _appetizing_ (oh, god) than just the demons.

He was still looking away when she spoke again. "Now, if you're feeling magnanimous, you could force the demons out of what's left of those bodies and destroy them right now. Feel free to leave them for the clean-up crew. They're not your responsibility."

"I don't know how."

"Very much as you did before -- without gestures, of course."

It _was_ a lot like it was before. Without gestures. It had to be deliberate.

Crushing the demons felt like eating them.

"Very neatly done," Eve said approvingly. "I think you're about ready to go looking for demons yourself." She paused. "Maybe not quite yet. But close."

Sam back away from her, from the pool, from the shells of the demons. "I'm… I'm going to go back. And get some sleep."

"Pleasant dreams."


	5. Chapter 5

July was hotter than he would have expected this far north, though he knew better. Bizarrely, Eupraxia seemed more bothered by the heat than anyone else. She obtained information on a goddess of air conditioning. Sam had handled more extreme conditions even before becoming a... whatever he was now had reset all his ideas of "extreme".

It had been almost a year since Eve banished Lucifer and took Sam. Eight months since she'd installed him at the lodge and sent tutors to show him how to function properly.

(Over thirty years since he'd been human.)

She'd declared it was time for him to leave the nest. One of the trademark-dragons had presented him with a folder of possible destinations, with sketched maps and short descriptions. All the options were on one coast or the other. It didn't say why.

Sam guessed he could have argued, but it wasn't like there was anywhere he really wanted to go. Even if he knew where anyone he knew was, he was pretty sure none of them would be happy to see him.

He'd prefer to avoid California -- and what the hell-- _Fuck._ What had hell done to the coastline? Some pretty nasty stuff had gone down along the Gulf Coast. Lucifer had occasionally insisted on showing him humans doing horrible things to each other. Maybe the Northeast? Croatoan would have been particularly bad places with high population density--

His thoughts were interrupted by Amy, carrying a couple bottles of water. "So there's a new guy coming?" Amy asked, moving to sit across from Sam at the table. She slid one of the bottles over to him.

"Yeah. Soon. I'm not sure when exactly. Who told you?"

" _She_ did. I had a dream." She rubbed her eyes. "She said that since he was never a Hunter, and wasn't going to be asked to hurt humans, she didn't think he would need the same kind of help adjusting, so she's sending me and Jacob to wherever you're based next."

Sam started to tell her she didn't have to do that, but it wasn't up to him, was it. "Sorry you're stuck babysitting," he said instead.

"I don't mind leaving. Cabin fever. And I think Jacob is hoping to find some friends who will play computer games with him instead of insisting on running around outside all the time."

"Sorry you got sent here in the first place, then?"

She shrugged. "It's not that bad."

Rather than argue, Sam passed her the folder. "These are my options on where to go. Anything look good?"

Amy shuffled through the folder. "Well, not _there_... Huh, I didn't realize Florida was inhabitable again... Maybe not New England... San Francisco?"

"I'm trying to avoid California."

"Yeah, San Francisco's a bad idea anyway. I lived there when I was a little kid, before everything went crazy -- it'd probably be traumatic, seeing how it is now."

"Probably." Sam tried to picture Amy as a little kid, but could only come up with a scaled-down version of the girl he'd met in Lincoln. "Do you... do you still worry about whether you're a good person?" he blurted. "Damn, sorry, that's a stupid question--"

She waved a hand at him, cutting off his apology. "...Not as much as I probably should. I got some help, after -- after my mother died. Not all kitsune, even tailless kitsune, are as... _viciously_ predatory as she was. An adult can get by scavenging. It's harder with a kid, but there are some tricks-- Anyway, I mutilated a lot of bodies, and was the most horrifying mortician ever except for all the other scavengers taking advantage of the position, but it worked. We were... as human as possible."

"Until the Apocalypse."

She snorted. "We probably could have managed dying like humans without too much trouble-- Yeah, being humans wasn't quite so appealing at that point. I would have been in the second wave of infected in Bozeman if I wasn't immune. And being faster and stronger saved us, more than once. So even though hunting the infected for their pituitary glands was really inconvenient -- it took a while for me to get anywhere near good at it -- and really, _really_ unpleasant, it was… an advantage, being what we are."

"Yeah, that makes sense." A lot of humans probably would have jumped at the opportunity. "By the way -- I noticed you always say 'infected', instead of--"

"Yes, yes I do," Amy interrupted. "You will find _most_ monsters do. The reason for this is a vampire with a lot of responsibilities for North American supply lines and logistics. He's important, he's influential, he's prickly, and he's from Croatia. I think he made a bargain with a pagan god to let him know whenever anyone uses the unapproved term for the infected, so he can send them a furious message."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

That must be awkward. Sam sighed, and decided to get on with the stupid questions. "I can't -- trust my judgment anymore, about what's good. I fucked up so spectacularly so many times, I trusted the wrong people, I -- I threw away my humanity with some stupid idea I could save everyone -- becoming a dragon thing probably made me _less_ of a monster--"

"Calm down, Sam. You sound like Jacob after the Television Incident of '08." She grimaced. "Look, I'm not going to pretend I know anything about the kind of bad you tangled with, but right now, being a monstrous freak-- We do the best we can with what we are, and sometimes that's acceptable to humans and sometimes it's not, but it's all we can do."

He wondered if being a good dragon-thing could begin to make up for being such an awful not-quite-human.

Maybe.

But not by moping around a lodge in the middle of nowhere.

Sam reached for the folder. "Was one of these options in the Pacific Northwest?"


	6. Chapter 6

He'd stopped dreading Eve's visits to his dreams. They were too unsettling to say he _anticipated_ them, but something about the discussions...

_I'm your mother, and there is nothing you can do that would make me stop loving you._

Sam still remembered why he hadn't wanted to be a monster, but it was getting hard to convince himself that was still the case. He was still human in his dreams. So far.

"How are you enjoying the Pacific Northwest?" Eve asked.

Sam leaned on the boardwalk railing -- the hot springs, as usual. It looked like they were occupied, too. "It's... fine. Rainy -- _muddy_ , with all the ash. Messy. I think I've learned more about assessing structural soundness in the last two weeks than in my entire life beforehand." And Washington had gotten off lightly compared to California. "I found -- you must have heard about the angel sword, right? That I found in the bar outside Olympia?"

"Yes, it arrived safely. Well done."

She probably knew about the god who'd appointed himself Coffee God of the Northwest, too. It would be difficult not to. "I've been paying attention to the ports, seeing if anything's try to come in or out. There have been some demons. A few surviving hosts who didn't speak English, but it turned out all right." He'd never considered that possible use for shapeshifter abilities. "Uh..." If she didn't already know about the feud between the vampires who thought Twilight was a great recruitment strategy and the vampires who thought Twilight was the most humiliating thing they'd ever heard of, he was not going to tell her.

"How are the kitsune?"

"Fine. Amy's trying to learn to speak Japanese." (According to Amy, she'd been studying Japanese off and on for her entire life, and still only knew the word "kitsune".) "How's... Paul, wasn't it?"

Eve nodded. "He's adapting well. He's taken to flying -- he's even taken down a few deer from above."

...Yeah, Sam still wasn't comfortable swooping down and grabbing something inanimate off the ground. "I'm impressed."

"He's having more trouble with the more esoteric abilities, I'm afraid. He's not really registering demonic power, so I haven't had him try driving any out, and while he can sense angelic resonance he can't track it. Some sort of prior experience with magic or psychic abilities helps immensely."

Or a previous career exorcising demons with his mind. "Is he going to learn?"

"Eventually." Eve gestured to the pool. "These two may be able to help, when they're transformed."

Sam leaned forward, but still couldn't see the... tranformees very well. "Why two at once?"

Eve smiled. "These two were a very fortuitous find. They're identical twins, and were close as children, so I can draw a a solid... call it a structure, to hold the angelic power, in Annabelle here, even though only Josephine was actually a vessel."

"How did _she_ survive the angels leaving?"

"Annabelle saved her. With witchcraft. Not that Josephine would have agreed to be a vessel in the first place if she hadn't been hoping to negotiate Annabelle out of the witchcraft-related debts and damnation she'd entangled herself in."

Sam winced. "And why did she get into witchcraft to begin with?"

"Initially to escape an abusive husband, I believe, but do not think she stopped there. There's a reason she looks half Josephine's age, and she was a very wealthy woman thanks to several successive husbands who left her everything." Eve smiled indulgently at the indistinct shapes. "She's smeared with enough black magic traces that I don't need to introduce any additional demonic power for the both of them, and her experience with magic should speed her progress significantly."

"Will the experience help both of them, too?"

"No, but Josephine will not allow Annabelle to outdo her for long."

Sam imagined Beth and Sophie's competitiveness and reckless shapeshifting crossed with the horrible, horrible tension of siblings tied to Heaven and Hell. He didn't envy Paul Keiffer at all. Or Winona. Or Peter, Beth, and Sophie, or even Eupraxia. "Whatever our mystery vulnerability is, you should probably make sure it's not something Eupraxia can stumble on by accident, because I think she may start trying."

"I don't anticipate they will be very tranquil, no," Eve acknowledged. "But this kind of blend of influences is rare, and it will be stronger for my not forcing it."

Ha. "Yeah, I guess not everyone can be a demon-blood-drinking angel condom." He _hated_ being 'special'. Still!

"No," Eve agreed calmly. "You are very close to the ideal candidate. But don't imagine yourself alone in your suitability. These two are working out well, and it would be no trouble at all to work with -- say -- a human bearing angelic marks who had spent time in Hell." Her smiled never flickered.

Sam froze. "You don't -- have Dean."

"Not yet." She cocked her head to the side. "Why are you upset? You want to see him. I'm sure he wants to see you, even if he won't admit it. I'm not proposing to do anything bad for him -- just adopt him. He need not call me 'mother' if he doesn't want to."

Sam... was having a hard time coming up with an argument. "I'm waking up," he said, and did so.

The room was dim and chilly -- the cardboard over the broken window had come off again. All was quiet. Sam went over and stuck his face out the window into the cold drizzle.

Dean was a Hunter, not a monster. Dean didn't want to be a monster, even one that hunted other monsters. Dean didn't deserve to be turned into a monster. He had to remember that. Dean thought turning into a monster was a _bad thing_ , and Sam had done so much else to hurt him, he had to shield him from this.

Somehow.


End file.
